


I Belong to You Belong to Me

by Eviscera



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Loki has the most interesting tricks, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eviscera/pseuds/Eviscera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clint's assignment takes longer than planned, Loki gets impatient.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Belong to You Belong to Me

    This mission was such a fucking waste of time.  
  
    Clint slammed the door of his hotel room a little more forcefully than was strictly necessary, but he was beyond caring. Nothing was going right, his mark had somehow managed to avoid doing, saying - hell, probably even _thinking_ \- anything incriminating for the past three weeks, and Clint was getting tired of playing nice and sitting on his hands. His talents were wasted on this undercover bullshit, he needed to _do_ something. Why they decided to use him as the point man on this assignment was beyond him.  
  
    He’d even asked Fury why they needed him when Natasha was the best infiltration operative they had.  
  
    “You have an honest face,” Fury said. “Even when you’re being an insubordinate little shit.”  
  
    The man certainly had a knack for backhanded compliments.  
  
    Clint sat on the edge of the bed and loosened the tie that felt increasingly like a noose around his neck the longer he wore it, and kicked off the uncomfortably tight shoes from his feet. He wiggled his toes in their socks, letting the knuckles pop back into place,  before pulling them off and tossing them aside.  
  
    He leaned back on his elbows, letting his head fall back, eyes closed, and breathed a sigh to the ceiling. He knew what his real problem was. It wasn’t the mission itself. It wasn’t even mostly the mission. The duration, on the other hand...  
  
    Three weeks of being undercover. Of being an unassuming liaison between his mark and the weapons dealers he was in bed with. Of being an _unattached_ liaison. Solo. Single. By himself.  
  
    He hadn’t gotten laid for the better part of a month. And for someone who was used to being molested and accosted at _least_ once a day by someone with an insatiable sexual appetite, it was just this side of torture.  
  
    Not to say Loki hadn’t put up a fight when Clint told him what his orders were. In fact, he’d been even more incensed than Clint himself, and proceeded to redecorate their temporary apartment. With his fists. And his feet. And one of the walls may have been simultaneously set ablaze and shattered, Clint still wasn’t sure how that happened.  
  
    The night before he left for his assignment was... Well, he didn’t get much sleep, and finding a comfortable position to sleep in on the jet was next to impossible.  
  
    Five times. That was how many times Loki made him come. Five times in as many hours, and that wasn’t even including the times he would bring him right to the brink only to deny him release.  
  
    Clint looked down his body at the tent in his pants and groaned to himself. He knew he shouldn’t have let those memories surface; he didn’t have time for this!  
  
    In his mind, he could hear Loki’s low, amused chuckle. “There is _always_ time for this,” he could imagine him saying.  
  
    “Fuck!” Clint groaned, letting his upper body fall back to the bed. His hand came up to cover his groin, rubbing over the insistent length with a hiss as his hips bucked up into the long-awaited contact. “Fuck it, don’t care.”  
  
    His hands went to his belt, the sound of the buckle loud in his thudding ears. Quickly, Clint sat up, tugging his suit jacket down his arms before tossing it at the chair. It fell to the floor beside it with a flump, but he wasn’t paying attention, too occupied with getting the buttons of his shirt undone.  
  
    Finally, his upper body was bare, and he lay back against the heavily-starched sheets, trying to ignore the itch against his skin, and instead imagined a different set of hands undoing his pants and sliding inside.  
  
    A deep groan left him at the feeling of skin on skin as his hand found its way around his rigid flesh, squeezing firmly before giving a tentative tug. The dry friction caused his hips to thrust up of their own accord, and Clint’s breath hitched at his own urgency. He hadn’t known he was as wound up as he apparently was.  
  
    “God damn it,” he muttered to himself. “Too fucking long...”  
  
    His eyes closed, and instead of his own hands, his mind instantly supplied a substitute. Instead of work-roughened sniper’s hands, it was a set of long, tapered fingers wrapped around his cock, carding through the sprinkling of hair leading down from his navel. His breathing sped up as he imagined a pair of poison-green eyes smirking up at him from below as those hands worked him expertly.  
  
    Clint writhed on the bed, his hips raising up to meet each downward pass of his hand. When his movements became more urgent and frenzied, his pants became a hindrance, and he kicked them off impatiently before pushing himself up the bed until he was lying back against the mound of pillows. He let his legs fall open and groaned at the feeling of the slightly cool air on his heated skin.  
  
    He gripped his erection tightly before giving a few harsh tugs, as he could so easily see the Loki in his mind doing the very same thing. Clint squirmed against the pillows at the friction of his dry hand on the sensitive flesh and decided to break away from his fantasy for a moment to do what Loki would never have allowed. He brought his hand up to his mouth and lathed the palm with his tongue before dropping back down to wrap slicked fingers around himself. A quiet, breathy moan floated from between slightly parted lips and his hips thrust up from the bed into the wet tunnel of his fingers.  
  
    Behind his eyelids, his last night with Loki was playing out in vivid detail. The god was kneeling between his spread legs, one hand working up and down his hard length while the other scratched long welts across his heaving chest. Even as he imagined it, he could feel the phantom sting of nails across his skin and he gasped and bucked his hips sharply. His cock gave a hard throb in his fist and he felt the first wetness begin to leak from his tip. Without thinking, he gathered the drop and spread it over his length to help ease the friction.  
  
    “Agent Barton, is this what you get up to on these ‘missions’ of yours?”  
  
    Clint’s eyes flew wide at the sudden voice that did _not_ come from his imagination. He scrambled back into the pillows, his hand reaching on instinct for the sidearm he kept near the bed at all times. He didn’t get very far before his brain finally registered that voice, and who it belonged to.  
  
    He blinked across the room to the chair beside the bed, and the figure reclining upon it as if it were a throne.  
  
    Loki’s eyes held equal parts amusement and mischief, and he hid his smirk behind steeped fingers even as his laughter floated to Clint’s ears.  
  
    “The fuck?” Clint barked, finally finding his voice. “What are you _doing_ here? I’m working!”  
  
    “Hm, yes, I can see you are _hard_ at work, Agent Barton,” Loki said, raising a sardonic eyebrow and looking pointedly at Clint’s still-hard erection.  
  
    “You - !” Clint scrubbed a hand over his face, wincing at the sudden pressure behind his eyes that appeared every time Loki decided to pull one of his pranks. “Not what I meant,” he growled. “How did you get in here without me noticing? And _what_ are you doing here? If you blow my cover, Fury is going to hit the fucking roof.”  
  
    “Calm yourself, my Hawk,” Loki soothed, lowering his hands to give Clint his most innocent of smiles. “Your cover is safe enough, and the Director is currently dumb, deaf and blind to all that transpires in this room.”  
  
    Clint felt his blood run cold; _he’d forgotten about the surveillance in his room_.  
  
    Loki must have sensed his sudden panic, if the dark chuckle was anything to go by. “Do you know how delicious you look when you panic?” he asked. “I so rarely get to see my Hawk’s feathers ruffled, but when I do...”  
  
    “Shut up!” Clint snapped, reaching for a pillow to cover his groin. He buried his face in his hands and muttered curses to himself.  
  
    “They saw nothing,” Loki informed him. “Do not think for a moment that I would allow the merest slip of a chance of them seeing you unclothed.” He unfolded himself from his seat on the chair and stalked over to the bed, his black shirt falling open, offering glimpses of a pale, smooth chest. Clint swallowed against the sudden desire he felt at the sight of all that unmarked flesh.  
  
    “Are you going to tell me how you got here?” Clint asked as Loki slid onto the bed like a great black cat. He watched him advance with glassy eyes.  
  
    “I am not here, as such,” Loki said. “But this will do, for what needs doing.”  
  
    Ah, so Loki had sent one of his shades to spy on him. He should have known.  
  
    “And what is it that needs doing?” Clint asked, deciding to play along.  
  
    Instead of answering, the shade slid one hand up his inner thigh while the other pulled the concealing pillow from his lap. It always gave Clint pause whenever one of Loki’s shades touched him. Even though it was an exact replica of the original, it always felt different, somehow. He kept his eyes on the hand as it slowly inched its way toward his groin, his breathing speeding up the closer it came to his erection.  
  
    “That would be you, Agent Barton,” Loki said in answer.  
  
    Clint smirked into the eyes of the shade, knowing Loki could hear, see and feel everything through his copy, and reached up to take a handful of dark hair in his fist. He pulled until he could breathe into his ear, pitching his voice to a low rumble.  
  
    “Couldn’t stay away, could you?” he said, pushing his hips up into the hand circling his erection. He let out a quiet groan as that hand started up a slow rhythm and pressed his face into the side of Loki’s neck. _“Fuck_... not that I’m complaining.”  
  
    Loki chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest like a purr. “No, I don’t expect you would,” he said. “And no, I really couldn’t stay away. It’s been too long, my Hawk. I can only entertain myself for so long before I need to feel the touch of another.”  
  
    Clint’s hips left the bed as those words called up the mental images of Loki ‘entertaining’ himself. The fist wrapped in Loki’s hair tightened and suddenly Clint was rolling him over onto his back, pinning him to the mattress with his weight as he claimed his mouth with his own. Loki’s hand was trapped between them, still wrapped around Clint’s arousal, and he gave a firm squeeze even as his teeth scraped against the tongue invading his mouth. Clint thrust up against him, his hand leaving its nest in Loki’s hair to wrap around the wrist of his free arm. He pulled his arm above his head and pinned it there, pulling back from the kiss to glare down into Loki’s eyes.  
  
    “You better not be letting anyone else touch you,” he growled possessively.  
  
    Loki blinked up at him, dazed from the kiss and his sudden relocation. “And who else would I allow to touch me?” he asked, giving Clint’s cock another squeeze. “Who else could give me what I need, when you are so very eager to provide? No, my Hawk. No other can ever possess me.”  
  
    Clint searched those eyes for a moment before he was satisfied, and he raised himself up to his knees, pulling Loki up with him. He kept his eyes on Loki’s as he roughly tugged the open shirt from his shoulders and down his arms, and the corner of Loki’s mouth turned up slightly at Clint’s rough handling. He did so love to bring out the beast in him.  
  
    Kneeling between Loki’s spread legs, Clint took in the sight of all that pale flesh, just waiting for him to mark it, claim it, put his stamp on it so anyone who looked would know it was his territory. It didn’t matter to him that this wasn’t actually Loki’s physical body; he would mark that when he returned home. This one would do for now.  
  
    “So, this is all mine, then?” Clint asked, running his hand down the smooth chest.  
  
    Loki pressed himself into Clint’s touch and gave the hardened flesh in his hand a long, slow drag. “Every bit,” Loki said, matching his Hawk’s gaze with his own.  
  
    “Good,” Clint said with a smirk, before shoving him back down to the bed. He looked down at the body sprawled across the pillows, the wide, startled eyes and heaving chest. “I don’t feel like sharing.”  
  
    Clint’s hands went to the waist of Loki’s pants, unfastening them before tugging them down past his hips. Loki’s grin was firmly back in place as Clint shoved his legs wider apart and pulled him up into his lap. He lay back and let himself be manhandled into position, giving his Hawk free reign over his body for the  moment.  
  
    “So selfish, you are,” Loki teased as Clint’s arousal pressed hotly to his own. “Keeping me all to yourself.”  
  
    Clint snarled and gripped Loki’s hips with bruising force, which only caused the demigod to moan and press against him even harder. “Damn right I’m selfish. You’re _mine_ , Loki. And if I have to keep reminding you, I will.”  
  
    Green eyes flashed up to meet determined blue, holding that possessive gaze with his own of defiance. “You think to own a God?” he asked.  
  
    Clint stared down into those flashing eyes, knowing he was baiting his temper, pushing just that little bit too much. Only when Loki believed he was being challenged did things begin to get _really_ interesting.  
  
    “I think the God _wants_ to be owned,” he said, giving a thrust of his hips into the body below.  
  
    “Indeed?” Loki pushed himself up on his elbows, and Clint knew he’d hit a nerve. “And you think you can keep me under your reigns?”  
  
    “Pretty sure I already do,” Clint said with a smirk. “I don’t hear you complaining when I’m fucking you into the mattress, anyway. Unless you’re just hiding it really well.”  
  
    Loki glared. “Insolent thing,” he hissed. “I am merely humoring your frail mortal ego. I could end your fantasy of ownership whenever I choose, and we would see exactly who belongs to whom.”  
  
    “You could,” Clint agreed. “And maybe one of these days, you will. But like I said, I think you  want  to be owned. And like you said, I am always eager to provide.” And with that, Clint shoved Loki back down to the bed.   
  
    As Clint knew would happen, Loki relaxed under his hands, unable or unwilling to fight against something they both knew he craved. He would never admit to such a thing, but he didn’t have to; Clint knew him well enough to read his body language and what was in the things he _didn’t_ say.  
  
    “Well,” Loki said with a hint of reluctance, “there are worse things than being owned by you, I suppose.”  
  
    “Gee, thanks,” Clint said with a frown. “There you go, wounding my frail mortal ego. I think I might cry.”  
  
    Loki’s teeth flashed in a grin. “Your ego is far from frail, Barton. If it were, I would have crushed it to dust long ago. Now stop this banter and get to the business of owning me. We’ve both been far too long without the other to waste time on trifling words.”  
  
    Clint grinned back. “Yes, sir.”  
  
    Loki hissed between his teeth when Clint took his straining cock in his fist, leaning over him to hold his gaze as he began a slow, steady rhythm. He wrapped his legs around Clint’s waist and pulled him tighter against him. He ground his hips up into the other man’s and couldn’t help the feeling of smug satisfaction at the hooded look in Clint’s eyes at the motion. So he did it again, and again, until he was practically fucking his fist and Clint was panting his frustration against his throat.  
  
    Clint was trembling with the effort of holding back from just burying himself inside of Loki and rutting him through the mattress right that very moment. Instead, he pulled away, as far as Loki’s vice-grip around his hips would allow, and slipped his hand down between them to ghost his fingers over his opening. Loki’s hips stilled and a hiss escaped through clenched teeth, his eyes flashing up into Clint’s with unvoiced need.  
  
    “There it is,” Clint whispered down at him. “There’s the proof I own you. Just one touch from me and you’re practically begging me with your eyes.”  
  
    Loki groaned and pushed his hips against those fingers. “Clint, don’t... please don’t tease me,” he panted. “It’s been too long. I can’t...”  
  
    Clint’s eyes went wide at how quickly Loki was willing to cave. “Wow, that was quick. I was expecting more of a fight than this.” His fingers pressed rhythmically against the clenching muscles. “But since you asked so nicely...”  
  
    And because he wasn’t willing to wait much longer, either, Clint quickly slicked his fingers and pushed them slowly into that welcoming heat. He lowered himself until he was pinning the taller body to the bed with his own weight, pressing his aching arousal into Loki’s hip while he took in the fleeting expressions that passed over his face. Those muscles clamped down around his fingers when he finally found his target, and Loki bared his throat and cried out to the ceiling when he pressed against that spot again and again.  
  
    His whole body trembled, hands clutching the sheets and pillows hard enough to rend holes in them, and Clint was grateful Loki hadn’t chosen to use  him  as his scratching post. He was usually better about keeping his strength in check; it really had been too long, he didn’t have nearly the restraint he normally did.   
  
    Better not waste any time, then.  
  
    Quickly, Clint sat up and pulled Loki’s hips up into his lap once more, pressing the head of his cock against the stretched opening before slowly pushing inside. With his eyes screwed shut against the nearly painful pleasure of sinking into that tight, clenching heat, Clint could only listen to the ripping sounds of Loki shredding the sheets and blankets below them and the frantic, rapid panting of his breath as he was thoroughly claimed.  
  
    Only when he was seated fully inside did Clint open his eyes, to the sight of Loki’s flushed, sweaty face pressing into the tattered remains of a pillow. There were long rends in the sheet and a few punctures in the mattress below them from where Loki’s fingers had punched through. A dim part of his brain was worried this was going to come back to bite him in the ass, but another, louder part was preening at the sight. He didn’t think he could ever say he’d caused someone to rip the bed to shreds before, but that appeared to no longer be true.  
  
    “Damn, you weren’t lying,” Clint said, giving a tentative thrust of his hips. He nearly lost it when the action pushed a wanton moan from Loki’s throat. “Fuck, that shouldn’t be so fucking hot.”  
  
    “Clint,” Loki panted, “please... fuck me. I need it, so badly. Take me, my Hawk. _Own me_...”  
  
    “Oh, don’t worry,” Clint assured him, pushing up with a harsh buck of his hips and getting a shuddering moan as reward. “You’ll get your fucking. I will own every fucking inch of you before I’m done.”  
  
    And with that, he began a punishing rhythm, pulling Loki’s hips against him as he pounded into the willing body below. The headboard of the bed slammed into the wall on each thrust, but neither noticed or cared as the heat and friction began to build. Loki’s hands were everywhere, pushing against the headboard to shove himself even harder against Clint one moment, then fisting in the torn sheets the next.  
  
    He didn’t dare to touch his Hawk, he was afraid of damaging him should his lust grow completely out of his control and he suddenly wished he hadn’t waited so long to come after him. He’d never been this long without Clint’s attentions before; it surprised him how addicted he’d become to his touch, the sound of his voice, even his mere presence.  
  
    Never again, he decided, would he let Clint out of his sight for this long. If ever. Clint may own him, but Loki also owned Clint just as completely, and he was nothing if not selfish.  
  
    And in that same selfish vein, while he was as unwilling to share Clint with anyone else as Clint obviously was unwilling to share him, that didn’t mean he couldn’t share him with _himself_.  
  
    Clint was lost to the feeling of tight, grasping heat around his cock and the sounds coming from below, so much so that when he felt the hands sliding along his waist from behind, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked, startled, into the laughing eyes of the shade below him even as the solid, naked body of the other pressed itself against his back.  
  
    “A little distracted, my Hawk?” the shade at his back murmured into his ear.  
  
    “Fuck... don’t do that!” Clint chided, glaring down into those eyes. He twisted his head around to give a scathing look to the second Loki. “You are a twisted fuck sometimes, you know that?”  
  
    Twin chuckles met his ears, and then the Loki below him was raising up on his palms, leaning in to nip at Clint’s mouth while the other assaulted the back of his neck, fingers scratching down the broad back to grip his hips. With a groan, Clint allowed his mouth to be claimed even as he felt the hard length pressing into his lower back.  
  
    “You do own me, my Hawk,” Loki whispered against his neck. “But I also own you. And I mean to show you, just as you’ve shown me.”  
  
    The Loki below him chuckled into his mouth when he felt the throb of his arousal within him. “And I do believe that idea appeals to your base nature, does it not?” he asked against the panting mouth.  
  
    “ _Fuck!_ ” Clint groaned, his hips snapping forward of their own accord.  
  
    “I will take that as a ‘yes’, then,” the Loki at his back said, sliding his length along the crease of his ass. Clint shuddered and could only nod his head, pressing his face into the neck of the Loki below him. Two pairs of poison-green eyes met over Clint’s shoulder with the same victorious smirk on identical faces.  
  
    Then there was the feeling of long, graceful fingers ghosting over Clint’s opening, slicked with something that probably hadn’t been there moments before but he couldn’t really bring himself to care as those fingers slowly worked their way inside him. He panted into the skin of Loki’s shoulder, biting down when another finger entered him. Then the fingers began the slow, torturous stretching and twisting, pressing deeper to get him ready. He couldn’t help the tiny thrusts of his hips into the body below or the needy whimpers that escaped.  
  
    “You need this just as badly as I,” the Loki behind him whispered in his ear. “You need not tell me with words, your body has already betrayed you. Give in, my Hawk. Let me own you just as thoroughly as you own me.”  
  
    The fingers slipped out, to be replaced by something much more solid and insistent. Clint tried to still his hips, to keep from thrusting forward and into the welcoming heat wrapped around his cock. He somehow managed to keep still long enough for Loki to breach him, and then he was being pressed down against the other, until he lay flush against the warm, solid body below. He could feel Loki’s cock between them, twitching at the friction between their bellies.  
  
    “Oh... _fuck_ ,” Clint panted, trapped between the two shades and utterly overwhelmed by the duel sensations of being surrounded by one body and surrounding the other.  
  
    “You feel owned now, do you not?” Loki breathed in his ear, and Clint couldn’t even tell anymore which it was, nor did it matter. He could only moan and clutch the sheets as the two began to move against him, the Loki behind pressing him deeper into the one below. “This is how I feel every time you claim me, my Hawk. To have you inside me is to feel completely owned. And to be inside you is to let you feel how very much you belong to me.”  
  
    Then the words were abandoned as their bodies took over, working in tandem to drive Clint to the very brink of coherency. The bed rocked steadily into the wall as they moved together, slowly at first, then more urgently as their combined need grew. The Loki below him took Clint’s face between his hands and tugged him down into a desperate kiss, which Clint could only return in a daze as the Loki behind him changed the angle of his thrusts to hit his spot with an accuracy he could only be jealous of. His hands clutched the sheets tighter as he could feel the heat and tension mounting inside him.  
  
    Loki pulled his mouth away with a gasp. “You’re close now, I can feel you throbbing within me,” he said, staring up into glazed, unseeing eyes. Clint could only gasp against his mouth before nodding and letting his head drop to the crook of his shoulder. He felt fingers sliding into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp, as a deep, rumbling moan vibrated the chest below him.  
  
    “Yes, Clint,” the Loki at his back panted. “I can feel you tightening around me. You’re so close. You wish for release, yes?” He pushed forward suddenly, shoving Clint even deeper into the shade below him, causing them both to cry out, each muffling their cries against the other’s throat. “Tell me you belong to me, and I will grant it.”  
  
    The fingers in Clint’s hair suddenly tightened, pulling his head up so he could look down into the desperate eyes of the shade below him. “Say it, my Hawk,” he moaned as his hips pushed up against the invading length. Clint let out a shuddering moan and gripped the sheets tighter, unable to look away from those piercing green eyes. “Say it. I wish to feel you spill inside me. Claim me. Tell me you are mine, and I will show you how much I am yours.”  
  
    “ _God... damn it_ ,” Clint breathed. “Fuck, yes, I belong to you. I’m yours...”  
  
    He had no chance to say anything more, even had he the breath for it, as Loki reclaimed his mouth once more, his tongue sliding inside to dance against Clint’s.  
  
    The hips thrusting into him suddenly shifted, and the next thrust was Clint’s undoing. He cried out into the mouth pressed against him as he felt the tension in his belly suddenly begin to unravel. His hands left the sheets to grip the arms of the shade below him, his fingers digging into the pale flesh until it bruised, his hips thrusting unchecked as he emptied himself inside the willing body.  
  
    At the feeling of the throbbing, twitching flesh within and the clenching muscles surrounding him, Loki could hold back no longer, and they both let out twin cries as they shared their release. They clutched the body between them as tightly as they dared, even in the throes of their orgasm they were careful not to damage their precious mortal.  
  
    Finally, when all three were spent, Loki carefully pulled away from Clint’s back, sliding his hands soothingly down his back as he slipped free. He lay down on his side and pulled Clint along with him, curling his long body around the shorter man. The other shade clung to Clint and refused to let him pull free, and instead wrapped his legs tighter around the other man’s hips. He tucked his  head under his chin and carded long fingers through his sweaty hair.  
  
    Clint was too exhausted to take exception to the fact that he was being cuddled like a giant teddy bear, and just closed his eyes against the throbbing pulse of Loki’s throat.  
  
    Only then did it occur to him to wonder why they’d never thought to use this particular talent of Loki’s before. He smirked at all the new possibilities this could lead to.


End file.
